


Cum Quickly, Now

by GasolineGhuleh



Category: Ghost (Sweden Band)
Genre: AFAB reader - Freeform, Edging, F/M, Face Sitting, Foot Jobs, Hand Jobs, Hidden Talents, Oral, Praise, Premature Ejaculation, Reader Insert, Semi Public, Stockings, Teasing, cumming too fast, hidden alcove, magic allusion
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-03-07
Updated: 2021-03-07
Packaged: 2021-03-12 21:00:29
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 3,679
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29890461
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/GasolineGhuleh/pseuds/GasolineGhuleh
Summary: Three chapters about the men of Ghost cumming a bit too soon from your attention.
Relationships: Cardinal Copia/Reader, Papa Emeritus II/Reader, Papa Emeritus III/Reader
Comments: 1
Kudos: 15





	1. II

**Author's Note:**

> Inquire about your own personalized writing on Tumblr, or my Kawfee.

It takes some work, but you manage to extricate your stockinged foot out of your solid black pump without alerting the sharp and quick witted attention of the second Papa Emeritus, your dinner partner for the evening. About two bites into the main course of your meal is when you decide to make your move, inching your foot across the soft carpeted floor of the restaurant util you feel his pointed Italian leather shoe. His eyebrow arches as he points a fork at you.

“I told you to wait.” He shakes his head and returns to his meal, taking a sip of the wine at his side. When his eyes slip closed, enjoying the tastes, you strike. Your foot slides up his calf to rest on his lap, your toes pressing just gently against the soft curve of his balls nestled in his suit pants. “Ai! Sister! What did I say?”

“I don’t want to wait, Papa,” you say with a delicate smile on your lips. He frowns at you again and you waiver for a second, silently convincing yourself to go along with the plan. If it worked, you were bound to come into some money from that bet that Sister Catherine made… 

“What if I said to wait until the car, instead of the room?” he asks, enticing you with the promise of sex sooner rather than later. Still, you persist. You tilt your head from side to side and chew your lip, feigning thought.

“No,” you say simply. You scoot your chair a little closer to the table and move your foot along the rapidly hardening length of his shaft, caressing it with the arch of your foot as you would with your palm. “I think I would rather sink to my knees below this table, down onto this beautiful carpet and take you into my mouth. Get something good for dessert. Don’t you think that sounds magnificent, Papa?”

“You little she-devil,” he grumbles, stabbing at his food a little harder than necessary. You stick your tongue out at him and flex your toes, squeezing his cock slightly and laughing when he jumps in his seat. “At this rate, you’re going to wind up being punished and not getting what you want at all.” 

“I think I’ll still get what I want.” You lean forward, pressing your upper arms to either side of your chest to push your breasts out more, watching Papa’s eyes widen as they threaten to spill over the top of your bra. “You’ve said it yourself Papa— you can’t resist me when I’m ‘up to no good’. Would it really be such a bad thing to just give in and let me have what I want? Just this once?” 

“Yes,” he states flatly. You almost stop, then— the dull anger in eyes just enough to worry you about what may happen if you go through with your plan. But the chance to possibly take control of your bitter old man excites you more than the alternative, and you move your foot along him again. You barely notice it when his eyelids droop a little, but you certainly notice the low groan that leaves his lips when you continue your pushing and pulling. 

“How is everything my dears?” The waitress floats by your table with an armful of menus and silverware, giving both of you an appreciative look before turning her eyes to your plates. “Sir, is everything alright? You’ve barely touched the meat!” You stifle a laugh as you press your toes to the base of Papa’s cock, tossing him a quick wink and taking a sip of your wine as you manipulate him. 

“Yes, yes, it’s wonderful. My companion here has proved so interesting, I’ve forgotten to eat! The charms of a woman, si?” Papa turns to the waitress and gives her a conspiratorial wink and watches as her face flushes pink momentarily. 

“Well that’s just about the sweetest thing, my Lord. God in Heaven, a perfect gentleman. I’ll be right back with your check, okay?” The waitress shuffles away in a hurry, muttering to herself about how difficult it was to find a nice man nowadays.

“Oh, if only she knew how much of a gentle man you actually are, Papa.” You place some emphasis on the word gentle, and cock an eyebrow, knowing he understood your reference when he rolls his eyes at you. “How nice you treat me when we’re alone… Perhaps with the kiss of a leather glove, or the strike of a crop…” You trail off, bringing your other foot up now, caressing the other side of his cock. 

“Fuck,” he hisses, jolting in his seat at the sensation. “Sister, I’m warning you-”

“Warn away, Papa. What did you say to me once? I’m incredibly hard to discourage once an idea is in my head. Tenacious! That’s the word you said!” You snap and press harder with the arch of your feet, cupping his cock and rolling his balls with your stockinged toes. “I love to see an end to things… The big finale! The final—” Papa cuts you off with a hiss as he leans towards you, but you can tell it’s affecting him. 

“You think you can do this without something coming to you? Perhaps when we return, I show you what it feels like to be forced to cum when you—” He cuts himself off this time, one leather gloved hand flying to the edge of the table and gripping it tightly as he bites his lower lip. His hips thrust against you, and you can feel the pulse of his cock as he cums in his suit pants. 

“Perhaps you should, Papa,” you say, taking the last bite of your meal off of your fork daintily as you slide your feet back into your pumps. The waitress slides by once more and drops you a wink as she slides the checkbook over towards Papa. She floats away as quickly as she came, leaving you with the scent of floral perfume. 

“Perhaps, then, I shall.” Papa lowers his eyebrows sternly at you as he signs the bill with a flourish, standing and wrapping his robe around himself quickly. “Get to the car, Sister.” When you pass him, he slaps at your ass covertly and you hop a little bit, hurrying out to the car in an attempt to suppress your giggles.


	2. III

Smoothing your hands idly over the silken bedspread, gilded in deep amethyst and gold, you huff out a sigh that blows some of the unbound hair away from your face. You’ve been waiting for what feels like forever for Papa to finish his sermons… but the wait is worth it, you remind yourself. It won’t be long until he joins you on the bed and you can show him just how much you’ve missed him while he was away. The post-tour sermons can take hours, depending on how many questions the Siblings ask the exhausted Papa. You sigh and rearrange yourself, sitting with your legs tucked underneath you as you pull at a stray thread on the lace nightie you chose for this occasion. It’s the first time you’ve presented yourself to him so boldly, and it’s a concentrated effort to calm your breathing and rapid heart beat.

Resigned to waiting, you close your eyes and begin to run through some small prayers in your head. The recitation makes the time pass a little smoother, and it keeps your mind from wandering to the man you’re waiting to surprise. When you’re halfway through your Hail Lilith’s you stop and sit bolt upright— something has changed. You blink quickly, willing the weariness and blurriness from your vision as you scan the room. A shadow in the corner moves as Papa Emeritus the Third bleeds out of the darkness to stand before you, small wisps of shadow tendrils curling around his shoulders and hands. 

“Sister… You have come to greet me, the triumphantly returned?” His robe is unbuttoned down the front and his suit is visible as he stands with his hands comfortably crossed in front of him, weight resting on one foot. When you nod he huffs a laugh out through his nose, stepping closer and bending down into your space, his eyes meeting yours with the intensity of simmering brimstone. “Greet me, or fuck me, Sister?” The crude word falling from his lips startles you into a small gasp, something that he notices and smiles at. 

“Papa, I—” 

“‘Papa, I—’, nothing,” he mocks. “Look at you… Perched in the center of my bed like a box of chocolate, si? You are even trussed up like one meant for the Valentine’s.” He reaches forward and pulls slowly at one of the bows tied on the front of your lace chemise, the bow unraveling delicately and leaving your breasts covered by a thin veil of lace and embroidered grucifixes. “Tied with bows as a present to your Papa… How positively whorish, sorella.” He sneers down at you, lip curling up on one side as his eyes slide up and down your barely revealed body, seeing more of you than you thought possible— your mind, your inhibitions, your desires… all laid bare for him. 

“I thought I would surprise you… When your brother returned he had a harem waiting for him. You deserve the same, if not more.” Your words bring back some confidence in you as you raise yourself up onto your knees and shuffle forward closer to him, looping your arms around his shoulders loosely. “You deserve to have fun for the evening.”

“And you think you are my fun?” Papa’s finger comes to your chin, lifting your face up towards his as his eyes narrow scrupulously. “You think you are deserving of being my fun?” You shrug off the verbal barb and raise your eyes to his, meeting his challenge as you slide the thin straps off down your shoulder and shrug the chemise down. Your nipples pebble as they meet the cold ethereal air surrounding Papa— something that doesn’t go unnoticed. 

“I think I am, Papa.” His eyes slide down your body to land on your breasts and you watch as his right pupil grows wider in arousal. You lean closer, pressing your breasts against his chest with a growing confidence that seems to have no bounds as you tilt your head back, exposing your throat. “Take me, Papa. You deserve to have a night to let yourself free.”

“Mm… free, you say?” He takes the invitation, one of his hands sliding down your bare back to press at the dip above your ass, pressing you closer to him. His lips press just briefly to the soft skin of your throat before he speaks, his lips brushing against you. “Would you agree to something for me, Sister?” When you nod, he continues. “I want you to sit on me.” 

“On your lap?” you ask, hardly daring to move as he kisses in a hot line from your throat to the shell of your ear. A light moan of surprise drops from your open lips when his teeth drag along your ear lobe, the sensation causing goosebumps to roll up your arms.

“No, Sister,” he murmurs. His other hand slides down your side to pull pointedly at the side of your panties, snapping them back against your skin. As he speaks, he runs his hand around to your front, cupping your cunt against his palm like a prize. “I want you to ride my face. Give me the pleasure of seeing my paint marking your skin, hm? You say you are mine… Be marked as mine.” When you don’t answer right away, Papa jerks his hand, pressing his palm hard against your clit, smiling against your hairline when you gasp.

“Yes! Whatever you want from me, Papa.” At your words he groans, a chest-deep and visceral sound that belies his mounting desire. Within seconds he’s pressing you back onto the bed, his quickly discarded robe forgotten in a pile at his feet. His lips meet yours in a clash of tongue and teeth, his carefully kept exterior pushed aside as his desire rises to the surface. You’re quick to match him, your hands running through his hair and down his cheeks to wrap around his shoulders as you throw a leg over his waist, already beginning to rut against you. 

“Give it to me, bella. You say yes, si? Per favore,” he mumbles against your lips, hands pulling and tearing at the frail chemise until it falls free of your body. Papa levies an arm under your shoulders and rolls, dragging you on top of him even as he kisses you with a fervor hardly seen in a leader of the church. 

“Fuck… Papa, I need—” You cut yourself off, reaching to your own waist and untying the small bow at your side, allowing the white satin panties to fall down your legs onto Papa’s lap. He groans against your lips, tugging insistently at your arms and side until you shift, moving up his body. 

With his combined help (in the form of insistently rolling hips, tugging hands and coercion) you manage to get yourself situated above him with your hands on the headboard of his large bed. You rock above him for a moment, teasing him as he attempts to reach you. Finally, with a snarl of disapproval that stops your heart, his hands fly to your waist and grip you tightly, dimpling the flesh there as he yanks you down onto his face. His tongue instantly moves to dig into you, parting your already slick lips with ease. 

“Papa!” you shout, your knuckles turning white with your grip on the headboard as your hips jerk reflexively at the sudden pleasure. He only groans into you, doubling his effort as his eyes slide shut. When his hands begin to roam, sliding along the planes of your ass to your thighs you hum in acquiescence, glad for the attention. Suddenly, however, his hands falter when they move down your thighs.

His fingers dance along the edge of the thigh high stockings you’ve put on, and you can feel him attempting to pull at them through the gloves. With another snarl of frustration and a doubling of his oral efforts, he yanks off his gloves behind your back and returns his attention to the stockings. When his fingers slide over the divet between your ample flesh and the elastic band of the stockings he groans deeply, his hips jerking behind you as he fills his pants. You gasp in surprise, turning your head to look at him, watching as the front of his suit pants darken. 

“Papa, you—”

“Si,” he answers you simply, moving your hips with his hands just slightly until you’re hovering about an inch above his face. He licks his lips exaggeratedly, looking up at you as your heart pounds in your throat. “You give your Papa another five minutes of this, eh? Then we’ll see who cums too fast. I’ll have you screaming.” 

“If you need to—” Papa silences you with ease as he pulls you back down over him, lewd noises coming from the space where you two are joined. True to his word, you can see the length of his cock already filling out again when you turn around. 

Perhaps they really are Hell sent.


	3. Copia

Your hands are sweaty as you clench your palms, fingers tingling with the knowledge of what you have planned— ambushing your Cardinal on his way to mass. Wringing your hands, you wait for the telltale sound of his shoes clicking down the hallway on the way to the Chapel. It doesn’t take long to know that he’s coming, and his own muttered incantations and verses herald his arrival. Taking one last stabilizing breath in, you thrust your hand out of the small hidden alcove and grope around until you find the back of his cassock— the red one, of course. There’s a small yipe as you pull him into the alcove, but Copia recovers quickly enough once you murmur your name in his ear.

“Sister, what is the meaning of this?” he asks, brushing the front of his cassock off of invisible dust as he attempts to fix you with a stern glare. “You know I have mass in ten minutes.”

“I know, Cardinal. I thought perhaps I could help you practice some of those more… tricky incantations. The Latin ones? The ones that you say my tongue curls around oh so nicely?” Copia is already flushed, dabbing his forehead with a small handkerchief that he pulls from the front pocket of his cassock. 

“I… I only have ten minutes. Which ones did you want to practice?” His eyes glance furtively towards the opening to the hallway as he swallows hard, his ears straining to hear any passing Ghouls or siblings. When no sounds come, he leans towards you a little. “Perhaps ten minutes is all you need to eh- come to the conclusion of your learning?”

“Exactly, Cardinal.” Your words are more measured and steady than you feel as your heart hammers in your chest. The blood rushes in your ears as you lean in, pushing with one hand on his shoulder until his back hits the wall. One hand slides down his chest to the opening in his cassock as you unbutton it deftly and feel for his cock, already plumping under your hand. “What if I would rather you come to a… conclusion… though? Would that be alright as well?” Copia stammers for a moment before speaking. 

“I… You want me to—”

“I want to see you at the pulpit, face flushed as you preach and tell us the word of our Lord,” you start, your hand gripping his thick length through his suit pants under the cassock. “Knowing that I made you cum minutes before you took the stage to preach to your flock. Knowing that you came apart to my touch and my touch alone… No one else was allowed to touch you in that precious time before you have to speak, in the time you use to prepare yourself and pray and anoint your oils.”

“Sis- Sister, I-” Copia cuts himself off as his head falls back against the stone wall, a low groan rising in his throat as your thumb slides over the head of his cock through his pants. “You know that I would love nothing more, your hand on me… Sometimes—” He swallows hard and sighs again as you squeeze his cock in your fist, jerking him over the silky fabric of his pants. “Sometimes when I preach, I pretend that you are below me… Hiding underneath my pulpit and pleasuring me when I step close to you.”

“Yeah? You like the idea of me sucking your cock while you preach? While no one knows that you’re getting the absolutely best head of your life?” You lick your lips as he watches and lean in closer, just brushing the curve of his ear as you speak. “Do you fantasize about bending me over the altar and taking me after mass, when you’re all excited from being the center of attention and spreading the word? Do you think about spreading me instead?”

“Oh, fff—” He cuts off again with a deep shuddering breath inward, his eyes squeezing shut as he attempts to quiet himself. “The thought of… of you, bending over my altar and gripping the sides tight… Knowing that when I bury myself in you again, the sounds that you’ll make are for me, and only for me.” He groans, his hips thrusting forward against your hand as you moan an airy sigh into his ear. You trap the rest of his words with your lips, pressing your ample chest against him as you kiss him, biting his lower lip and sucking it into your mouth before letting go. 

“Cardinal, can I practice my incantations with you now? My Latin needs some work, I think… I know the words, but I just can’t make them come.” You squeeze his cock before stroking him faster, gripping him tightly on the upstrokes. His face is beet red as he sweats and pants, hands scrabbling at the wall for purchase as he attempts to keep himself upright.

“I have— I have mass, I— Yes, Sister, speak,” he finally gets out, tilting his head back and exposing the column of his neck. You take the chance, pressing a hot kiss to his throat before moving to his ear to whisper into it.

“In nomine Patris, et Filii, et Spiritus Sanсti…” The effect of your blasphemous prayer is almost immediate. Copia grunts, slapping a leather gloved hand over his mouth as his hips jerk in time with the pulsing of his cock as he floods his suit pants with ribbons of hot cum. You grip his cock in your palm, stroking and squeezing him through the climax, ensuring that every last drop of his release is eked from him. 

“Fuck, fuck, fuck,” he chants once his hand drops from his mouth. You press a chaste kiss to his cheek before pulling your hand out from underneath his cassock, beginning the arduous task of buttoning it for him. 

“Perhaps later, Cardinal, I would love to. As of right now, I believe…” You twist your arm, looking at the watch on your wrist and tapping it with the opposite finger. “I believe you’re late for your own sermon. Maybe you can work that into today’s lessons for the other Siblings?” 

“And you?” he asks dryly, his face showing his clear unamusement as he attempts to hold his suit pants and cassock away from his body.

“Me? I’m going to go shower.” You toss him a wink and a giggle as you turn to leave.

“Sister?” You turn slightly, and the look on his face stops you cold. “Don’t think you’ve gotten away with this. Be in my chambers no later than 10 this evening. You’ve got some cleaning to do.”


End file.
